


Kitchen (en)counters of the third kind

by Adamantia



Category: British Comedy RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Counter Sex, Cunnilingus, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Penis Size, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Size Difference, Some Plot, Sorry Not Sorry, Stockings, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex, Workplace Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:27:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29340543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adamantia/pseuds/Adamantia
Summary: So it seems my fondness for very tall, funny men continues.Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own Richard Osman. If I did, I definitely wouldn't have time to be writing this ;)
Relationships: Richard Osman/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	Kitchen (en)counters of the third kind

Their friendship felt easy. What had started as necessary work-related discussions had morphed seamlessly into Saturday nights in one or the other’s living room, eating, watching films, or just putting the world to rights.

Of course, nothing is ever that simple, and he was in love with her. Pathetically, desperately in love with her. _A work colleague, for fuck’s sake._ Who, more importantly, had become his friend. He cringed at the thought of being That Man, pushing boundaries, misreading friendship as being something more purely based on his own sad fantasies.

He had never intended it to be this way; it had started innocently enough. He was only a heterosexual man, after all, and had been taken with her on a purely physical level since the moment they met. She was five foot four of voluptuous, blooming, English rose prettiness, which was all very nice. But then he had got to know her, watched how her pretty face was made radiant by a personality full of sunshine and intelligence and warmth. And before he knew it, he was here, tonight, with her presence filling his living room, having to consciously stop himself from blurting out his feelings for her like a horny teenager.

Tonight, they were most of a bottle of wine in, and somehow the conversation had turned to love lives. She was putting dishes in the sink, laughing, lamenting her lack thereof.

‘…anyway, enough about my various debacles.’ She put the last dish in the sink and turned to face him. ‘What about you?’

He was suddenly all nerve endings; this was dangerous territory. But he had drunk just enough to blur his own internal code of honour.

‘There is someone…someone pretty special, actually.’

‘Ooh, tell me!’

‘She’s… she’s just lovely. She’s clever, she’s funny, she’s kind, she’s far too beautiful for me…’

‘How long have you been seeing her?’

‘No….she doesn’t know…she can’t know, we work together.’

He met her eyes, warily, testing for her response. Although she was still smiling, there was something unreadable behind her eyes as she spoke. ‘You really should tell Sophie how you feel and stop behaving like a teenage boy.’

She turned to retrieve a glass from the table. He was momentarily blindsided. Of course she wasn’t remotely interested in him, he wasn’t even on her radar, and she had mentally paired him off with one of his fellow producers. He was suddenly humiliated, hurt - completely without reason or justification, but it was there. Before he could stop himself, he heard himself saying, with a hint of bitterness in his voice, ‘yeah….you’re right, maybe I should.’  
  
She was very quiet, unnaturally still as she stood before him. Even with her back to him, he could read the sudden tension in her shoulders. The air was suddenly strained. Long seconds passed, then she turned back to face him and there was something wrong, horribly wrong, in her face, her whole demeanour. She had gone very pale and she would not meet his eyes.

‘I think perhaps I should head off, it’s a pretty early one tomorrow.’

‘Yeah, alright.’ _Well that was eloquent, you fucking idiot._

‘Ok, see you.’

He closed the door behind her and leaned his forehead against it, exhaling sharply, shame and self-loathing coursing through him. _Even the thought of you having some sort of sex life, of dating someone, made her so uncomfortable that she left, you stupid prick, you’ve ruined this, she’s…_

He heard a hitch of breath, then a tentative knock on the door.

‘Rich? Sorry, can I come back in? I was so bloody rude there, I don’t know what came over me.’

He opened the door and looked down at her. She was standing before him, her face etched with pain and distress, babbling apologies before he could stop her.

‘I’m so sorry, I just, I really thought that…that we, that you and me, I mean…no, of course not, so stupid, I’m sorry, I should just go, I…’

He said her name, gently, trying to stop her, but she continued, her eyes filling with tears as she spoke.

‘I know you don't see me that way, but I should be able to grow the fuck up and handle it, I mean…’

He interrupted her gently, confused. ‘If you’re saying…what I think you're saying…then why did you mention Sophie?’

She looked up at him properly for the first time then, and the pain in her eyes made his heart clench.

‘Because I care about you and I want you to be happy.’

_Christ, she is too good for this world._

‘Shit, Rich, I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined…’ She paused, was about to speak again, he could see the shame and panic in her eyes and he couldn’t bear it a second longer. He leaned down and kissed her gently, giving her the chance to pull away. She gasped against his mouth, a soft sound that sent fire coursing through his veins. He broke the kiss, drawing back to look at her. She was impossibly beautiful up close. He cradled her face in his palm, ran his thumb over her cheek, committing the velvet softness of her skin to his memory. She stood high on her toes to reach him for another kiss, pulling him down towards her. He tentatively rested a hand on her waist and she pressed closer to him in response. He could feel her trembling in his arms.

‘Christ Richard, please’ she whimpered against his mouth, her fingers clutching at his shirt as if to stop him from pulling away. As if he could ever be so stupid. Gently, he walked her the few steps backwards to the wall and pushed her up against it, one hand resting behind her head, the other now free to explore the glorious curve of her waist. She arched into his touch, moaning softly.

‘Do you have any idea what you do to me?’ he whispered into the soft shell of her ear. She shuddered in his arms. ‘I have wanted to do this since the first moment I saw you, since the second you walked into that room. You are beyond perfect.’

She blushed beautifully, he could feel the heat in her skin as he bent lower to press lazy, open-mouthed kisses against the soft line of her neck. She gasped and tilted her head to the side to give him better access, and he chuckled against her skin as he carded his hand through her hair, sweeping it to one side. He nipped lightly at the skin on the nape of her neck, just below her hairline, and she melted against him, biting back a moan.

‘Mmmm, sensitive neck….I’ll make a note of that one.’

She giggled. ‘Please do….trust you of all people to be making a mental checklist.’

He hummed against her neck and she whimpered desperately.

‘Oh, I take these things very seriously indeed.’

He paused as his right hand, now so high on her waist as to be positively indecent, brushed against her breast. He drew back to look at her.

‘Is this ok?’

‘If you don't fucking touch me right now I won't be responsible for my actions.’

Laughing, he claimed her mouth again, as his let his hands finally explore without hesitation, without shame. God, he had dreamed of this, had imagined how she would feel under his hands. The reality of her breasts filling his palms, of her nipples hardening at his touch under the thin lace of her bra, was beyond his wildest fantasies. She wriggled impatiently against him, her hips desperately seeking friction, and he pressed one long leg between her thighs to give her _something._ She writhed against him, shameless, beautiful, gasping his name against his mouth. He wanted, needed, to see her come. He dropped to his knees before her. When he looked up at her, he could see her smiling down at him, her face flushed and her hair dishevelled. She was unspeakably lovely.

‘Let me take care of you. Please.’

She nodded as her hand came to rest on his head, gentle. Kneeling before her now, his courage almost deserted him. His hands trembled a little as his fingers skated across the hem of her dress, gripping it lightly before sliding it up her legs to expose soft, pale, glorious thighs in, _sweet fucking Jesus_ , hold-up stockings.

He looked up at her, arching an eyebrow. ‘Did you wear these deliberately?’

She looked amused. ‘No, I always wear stockings with a dress.’

‘Good God, you mean that every time you’ve worn a dress to work….?

She nodded, grinning.

‘Fucking hell, If I’d known that I’d have pushed you up against the nearest flat surface and taken you right there in front of the entire production team.’

He kissed his way up her thighs, dizzy with the scent of her, and then pushed her underwear to the side because he had absolutely no control left. She was soaking wet and practically vibrating with need, for him. He nuzzled against her centre, spreading her with his lips and tongue, and her hips rolled languorously, chasing the sensation. He pressed her against the wall more firmly, holding her in place with one huge hand splayed across her hip.

‘Nuh uh, I said I'd take care of you and I will. Stay still for me.’

She nodded, and to her credit, she tried so hard to obey him as he lavished his full attention on her. He could feel her hips trying to grind into his face, chasing the friction she needed, and the feeling of denying her, of touching her with exquisite, tortuous gentleness, was erotic beyond belief. Another time, he promised himself, he’d let her ride his face until he was soaked in her, until he couldn't breathe, until he could come just from the taste and the heat of her, but not today.

When he could feel her legs beginning to shake, he pulled away. She keened desperately at the loss of sensation.

‘I know, love, I know. Let me do this for you. Trust me.’

He stood, his arms bracketing her against the wall again, kissing her hard and deep as he slid two long fingers into her while his thumb circled her, never actually touching her where she needed it most. He knew he was good at this, and he wanted to make it worth her while, wanted her to come so hard that she would never want to walk away from him. She was twitching and trembling in his arms now. His fingers were soaked and he would have happily carried on forever, watching the ecstasy play out on her face. She was utterly unselfconscious, lost in pleasure. She was beautiful.

‘Please, Rich, please...’ she sobbed, her hands clutching at his shoulders. ‘I need to come, please let me, please…’

He moved his thumb a little, circling her now, the time for finesse over. He was consumed with the need to see her come and to know that he was the man who had got her there.

‘Come for me, sweetheart, do it, come all over my hand, let me feel it…fuck, so beautiful, you’re so beautiful…’

Her body was pressed against his own and he could feel everything, every tremor in her limbs as her body tensed in his arms, as she clenched helplessly around his fingers, as she cried out his name. He kissed her as she came, swallowing her sobs of pleasure, one hand tangled in her hair even as the other stroked her gently through the aftershocks.

Her eyes opened and she looked up at him, eyes wide, still shaking. She could hardly stand up, and he wrapped her in his arms and kissed her again, reassuring this time, careful, soft.

‘Christ, Rich….that was….that was…wow.’

He smiled. 'I aim to please.’

‘Well you’ve certainly managed that…Jesus Christ.’

She slid her hand down to the front of his jeans, where he was still achingly hard. He hissed at her touch. She unzipped his fly and slid her hand into his boxers. He watched her eyes grow wide, then she grinned. So did he.

‘Wow, it’s true what they say about tall men, isn't it?’

‘In my case, yes. All in proportion and then some. To the point of inconvenience, actually.’

‘I beg to differ’ she smiled, as she dropped to her knees before him. ‘To be fair, I had an inkling.’

‘What..?’

‘Jesus, Rich, it’s obvious you’re packing serious heat every time you wear suit trousers. It’s been very…distracting.’

He laughed. ‘I can't say I’m sorry you noticed, given the current turn of events.’

She licked a long stripe along the underside of his erection, before running her tongue slowly around the sensitive head. She could hardly get any of him in her mouth, big as he was, but the way she lapped at him, eyes glazed with pleasure, was enough to drive him wild. He tangled one hand in her hair, bracing the other against the wall, and tried to fight the urge to thrust up into her sweet, hot mouth. By the time she paused to see the effect she was having on him, a few minutes later, his knees were weak and he was gasping for air. She looked up at him through her lashes.

‘I want you inside me.’

 _Fuck_ , he was lost. He could have come right there just from the look in her eyes.

He helped her to her feet and within seconds she had him pushed up against the wall, her eyes frantic.

‘I want you inside me right here, right this second. Please…’

He lifted her in his arms and deposited her on the kitchen counter a few feet away, eliciting a little shocked gasp from her, followed by a giggle of delight that made his heart leap. He leaned across to his jacket, mercifully slung over a nearby chair, and retrieved a condom from his wallet. He set it on the side, carefully, then turned his attention back to her, cupping her face in his hands.

‘Listen to me…I know that I’m…I don't want to hurt you. You must tell me if it’s too much, ok?’

She nodded, her fingers tangling in his hair as she kissed him. Somehow he managed to ready himself without breaking away from her glorious lips, and then he was bracing one hand against the wall behind them while he guided himself with the other.

‘Fuck, Rich!’

‘Are you ok?’

‘Oh God yes, you feel amazing, please…’

Slowly, he pushed inside. Her eyes never left his. By the time he was fully inside her she was trembling all over.

‘Is this…?’

She nodded, grinding against him desperately. Her fingers were gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise, there was not an inch of space between their bodies, and he could have happily died at that moment. The intimacy of it shook him to his core. He leaned his forehead against hers, drinking her in.

‘This is for real, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’ A soft kiss on his cheek, then another on his mouth. ‘It’s for real.’

He shifted his hips experimentally, and she hummed in pleasure. He moved a little more purposefully, and he felt her clench around him, exquisite, perfect heat.

‘I won't break, Rich,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘I don't want you to hold back.’

‘Are…are you sure?’

‘I want you to fuck me until I can’t walk.’

And with that he was gone, all restraint a distant memory. He plunged into her without mercy, and she wailed his name as she leaned back on the counter, supporting her weight on her hands. He could see her beautiful face scrunched up in overwhelmed ecstasy as he watched his erection disappearing inside that perfect, tight, wet heat. He pressed his thumb against her again and she arched up, gasping.

‘Rich, fuck, I need you, don’t stop, don't stop, fuck me harder, oh God…’

‘I want to hear you beg for it.’ He wasn’t even sure where that had come from. Something deep and primal inside him that needed to claim her, make her his.

‘Oh God, please, please, I need you, please…I need to feel you come inside me.’

At her words he was coming, uncontrollable, shuddering, and then she was there too, again, spasming around him. The thought of her being tipped over the edge by his own climax kept him coming and coming, harder than he ever had in his life. When he opened his eyes again she was gazing up at him with an awed look on her face. She was a trembling mess of beautiful, well-fucked, happy woman, and _he had done that_.

He looked around the room as they untangled themselves. The kitchen was a mess, his legs were aching, and he could see bruises forming on her thighs from the counter edge. He kissed her, smiling against her lips, and he felt her smile in return.

‘Let’s do this in a bed next time, eh?’


End file.
